We are losing our sensitivity and connection to the fundamental things that ground and secure us, and give meaning to our lives. Nature, organic experiences, how we communicate. When you take away the noise and distill things down to their very essence, it’s memories, mementos and photographs that tether your soul to the things that fill your heart the most. Tangible, not virtual, items to be held, felt, and cherished, that keep us connected to the stories in our lives.
Technology, is lifeless. It does not live, breathe, or emote. It’s promise to keep us connected, at lightening speed, only ends up disconnecting us from the things that we resonate with the most. A fine art archival photograph has agency and presence, and most importantly, personality. Framed and displayed, it is appreciated and honored, cherished and respected. It is a glimpse of that image every day that catches you off guard and lifts you up when you least expect it, transporting you to a wonderful time in your life. Like a flower that fills us with its aroma, we are transformed by its beauty and physical presence, valuing it all the more, with the understanding that our experience with it is fleeting and temporary, as life itself.
My process is analog. I shoot on the manual setting, which allows me to be more sensitive to my surroundings and aware of changing circumstances. I am more present and connected to my subject in ways that an automated setting doesn’t allow. I cannot relate, to a default setting. It’s inorganic.
I am attracted to and comforted by, things that have weight and presence—things that are grounding and protective. Rocks, soup, wearing a hat. The genesis for my love of rocks came from growing up in the Midwest. We had gravel surrounding our stepping stones, and as a kid I’d always be on the lookout for fossils and geode’s, and marvel at their inner worlds. Our Japanese koi pond which my father built, was surrounded by silky smooth, round black river stones. I would pick one up warmed by the sun, and carry it around revisiting it every now and then in my pocket. It brought me comfort, and was soothing to my soul.
Since then, I’ve had an affinity for talismans of this nature, and developed a visceral relationship with jewelry—charms and trinkets that like photographs, carries a verified significance. Charms are reminders of experiences and places, of loved ones and times gone by that I so fondly reminisce about, that bring me reassurance in a tumultuous and uncertain world. Photographs, books, rocks and charms, are things I hold dear. Sentimental pieces of love and positivity, that are a portal to a time and place where things were analog, measurable, simple and solid.